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“Tell me.”
“There’s this camp—”
“I’m ready,” Dante says, racing into the room with his backpack.
“You forgot your folder,” Clarissa says, glancing inside.
“Oh, duh,” he freezes, darting his eyes at Clarissa, “duh, do, da, le, do,” Dante sing songs with a giggle, and we can’t help our laugh.
“Good save, baby,” she says, shaking her head.
She squeezes my hand as soon as he’s out of earshot.
“Okay, so there’s a camp?”
“Yeah. It’s a prep camp for the Combine. And it’s expensive. Like really fucking expensive. I reserved a spot months ago in the off chance I’d be invited, but if I go—” I run a hand down my face.
“You wouldn’t be able to help out for a while.”
I nod. “It would be like taking out a student loan I may never be able to pay back.”
“That expensive?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so do it. Bet on yourself. I am.”
“Fuck, you’re incredible,” I whisper.
“How long will you be gone?”
This is the part I dread most. “Six weeks. And I would need to leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I wasn’t about to spend the money without the invite, but if I want in, I have to report within the next few days to keep my spot, and it’s a long drive.”
“What about school?”
“I’ll miss a little, but I’ll make it up.”
“You have to go,” she whispers.
“I know. I have to do whatev
er it takes. Whatever it takes.”
She nods. “You’ve got this.”
I can tell she’s being strong for me, but what we have is new, and I don’t want to gamble with it.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She repeats my words back to me, seeing the apprehension in my face. In this second, I’d move mountains just to fucking pull her to me and kiss her fears away. The secrets we’re hiding from our son are piling up, but I can’t in good judgment say the timing is right. Just as the thought drifts through my head to broach the subject of when, Dante busts us.
“Mommy? Why are you holding Troy’s hand?”
Clarissa squeezes it and lets go. “Because Troy just got really good news. He’s going to camp.”
“Clarissa,” I say softly.
